


Thrawn MD

by Thrawnduil



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emergency stuff, M/M, Medical Procedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 15:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12484312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrawnduil/pseuds/Thrawnduil
Summary: A tiny oneshot in a modern universe - AU, featuring Thrawn as a surgeon and Veers as a police officer.





	Thrawn MD

**Author's Note:**

  * For [White_Rainbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/gifts).



> This is for white_rainbow who I bugged with the idea of Thrawn being a surgeon first and who could not escape my queries in time.  
> I hope this is what you had in mind. :)

_“While the cause of the collapse has yet to be determined, the number of victims has already risen up to thirty-eight. Relatives can ask …”_ Tarkin switched the volume of the TV off and turned around to his colleagues. “Alright everyone get ready for the ambos, prep the trauma rooms and see who can be moved or discharged. Let’s move people!” 

He rushed through the emergency room, spotting Thrawn in one of the exam rooms, busy with a young patient. Tarkin quickly stepped inside. “Thrawn, there’s been a building collapse, casualties are on their way to us, we need every room.” - “I’m still waiting for a bed for him. He can’t go home yet”, the surgeon argued, however, Tarkin did not even bother to stop, already hurrying on.

“Then park him somewhere else, on the corridor if necessary. And hurry up, we need you soon”, he shouted back over his shoulder. Thrawn sighed in slight annoyance. So much for his end of shift. 

His patient, a young boy, hopped from the bed, regretting the decision immediately as the movement jostled his elbow. “Try to keep your arm still, it wouldn’t do to undo my work.” Thrawn admonished him with a small sigh. The kid gave him a sheepish smile as he accompanied him into the corridor and got him at least a chair. 

“We’ll get you set up properly as soon as possible”, the surgeon promised. All around him the first ambo units had already arrived and brought an influx of patients. The boy merely shrugged and gave him a grateful smile. “I'm fine don't really need a bed.” Before he had even opened his mouth to reply, Tarkin was shouting again.

“Thrawn, we need you in trauma 2 now!” Thrawn was about to answer something rude to his bossy colleague, when he urged him again. “Hurry! It’s Max!”

He blinked. Impossible. Tarkin was wrong, Max was at home, enjoying a day off from his police work. He had not even realised that his feet had brought him to the trauma room. Pushing the doors open he stepped in with his eyes already trained on the patient.

His breath hitched. It felt like someone had sucked out all the air of the room. He could not breathe. 

It really was Max. 

Thrawn was used to gruesome sights. Open wounds, severed limbs, burns, what he had seen as an emergency surgeon was enough to fill books. And yet, nothing came close to the sight of his love, lying prone as a bloody mess on the operating table. 

He swallowed thickly, the surgeon in him unconsciously taking stock of the visible injuries as he stepped closer. 

_Headwound - bleeding already stopped, probably minor, might include a concussion_

_Superficial cuts in the face - minor_

_Right arm in a splint - broken, extent unknown_

_But there - a pipe, protruding from his chest - possible fractures, hemopneumothorax…_

His thoughts came to a halt. He couldn’t do it. He could not assess Max like he would normally do with any other patient. Tarkin was watching him impatiently while the nurses rallied around them setting up equipment and hooking Max up to the monitors.

“Thrawn come on!” Wilhuff finally snapped. Taking a shuddering breath, he stepped forward with new resolution. “He needs to go up to the OR asap, I’ll intubate him here, get him stable and then we’ll go”, he caught himself just in time, before Wilhuff might try to get another surgeon. He was still watching him closely. “You got this?”, he even asked, though his tone had softened to a more concerned whisper. Thrawn gave him a determined nod. “I do”, he merely said to him. “Laryngoscope and five-oh tube please.”

“Th...thrawn?” the hoarse whisper of his husband cut through the cacophony of noises just as easy as a scream. Thrawn immediately moved so Max could see him properly. His love had the audacity to smile at him, with a sheepy smirk. “H..ey”, he croaked, but Thrawn shushed him at once. “Don’t talk too much, you’re badly injured. I have to stabilise you…” 

Max stopped the torrent of words with a mere shake of his head. “Thrawn … p...please ‘et me speak.” Thrawn could see how much it exhausted his husband to form the words, how he struggled to fight against the pain. And yet, although he knew he should stop him, he relented. He let him speak. 

“There was… a-a boy … Thrawn… He was stuck.” Thrawn had no idea what Max was talking about now. He was anxious to get him up to the OR before he got worse. Instead he tried to listen patiently to the rasping sounds of his husband. “...had to-to ge’ ‘im out… you know? ‘m sorry… Thrawn. Sorry.” 

“No no it’s okay Max”, Thrawn hurried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you, you’ll be fine.” Max smiled weakly and tried to talk again, but this time a coughing fit stopped him, immediately sending the monitors into a frenzy. “His sats are dropping”, Tarkin supplied quietly from behind him.

“Okay. Max I’m gonna intubate you, to help you breathe, just try to relax.” He knew how absurd that sounded. Relaxing while someone stuck a tube down your throat, but it was the only comfort he could offer his husband at the moment. He forced himself to think purely medical, going through the necessary steps in his mind, while his hands gripped the laryngoscope. Carefully he bent Max’ head back to get better access to his airways. It was something he did almost every day without any problems, but this was the first time since his first year that he had to concentrate to still his shaking fingers. 

_30 minutes later_

“Prep the chest for a thoracotomy, ten blade to me.” Thrawn tried to ignore the shrill sounds of the monitor next to him as best as he could, willing his hands to work steadily even though they were running out of time. Everything had gone downhill from the moment they tried to move Max up to the OR. Even though he had looked fine - as fine as can be said for a man with a pipe through his chest - his breathing had stopped just as they had left the room. 

So they had to go straight back in, perform CPR and now Thrawn had to do one of the most dangerous surgeries down in the E.R. He had to perform a thoracotomy down here with the E.R. staff instead of his usual surgical team. Of course his colleagues in here were competent, but he would have felt safer with his usual team instead. Taking a deep breath he cut deep into the skin. 

He forced his mind away from any thoughts about Max now, focusing intently on the procedure alone. If he did not disconnect his mind from the fact that he was operating on his husband, he feared that he would freeze again. And that was not an option.

He had to extract the pipe and close the hole it had ripped into Max’ right lung. “Clamps and hang another unit of blood”, he ordered almost automatically. For once he was grateful that the chatter had died down and no one dared to break the tense silence.

In the end, it was not the damage to the right lung that had caused his sudden arrest. After getting the horrifying pipe out, Thrawn was splattered with blood, coming right from the aorta. It was a close call, but he had managed to clamp it in time to sew it up. He took his time now, taking care to make the stitches as neat as possible. The monitor beside him beeped comfortingly slow, reassuring him that Max - at least for now - was alright. 

_16 hours later_

It took Max half a day to wake up, but when he finally did, Thrawn immediately forgot about his own tiredness and shuffled closer, observing every tiny twitch of muscle on his love’s face. The warm gaze of his caramel coloured eyes met the red rimmed icy blue. It was Thrawn who broke the silence first. “How are you feeling?” he tried, suddenly feeling unusually awkward. He should be jumping with joy, smiling at least that his love was finally awake, but somehow he felt emptiness where happiness was supposed to be and anger where love should be. 

Max waited with his answer, observing Thrawn carefully. “You’re angry with me”, he finally whispered, voice still hoarse from the breathing tube. Thrawn sighed, looking down at the ground to avoid the questioning looks he knew awaited him. 

“The firefighters told me about your … help. You really saved that child.” His breath hitched. “You’re a hero now.” He swallowed thickly, blinking the sudden tears from his eyes. “Thrawn… I…” 

“You knew better”, Thrawn suddenly shouted, jumping up from his chair. “You knew that the building could come down any moment and you still chose to go in. Do you not care about your life at all? Why...why would you do that?” He was almost hysterical now, all the grief and fear and anger he had held in those last twenty hours crushing down on him now. Tears were running down his cheeks unhindered, as he stared in disbelief at his husband. 

It was Max this time who lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry”, he mumbled. “But I just couldn’t leave when I heard that child, crying for help.” He was struggling to speak in more than a whisper. “I thought I had more time, get in and out safely.” - “But you didn’t”, Thrawn interrupted him harshly. 

“You almost died Max”, he choked. “Right under my hands.” Thrawn struggled to get his breathing back under control. With every word he relived the those moments again, saw those images of Max again, lying still and bloody. “I thought I was losing you”, he finally whispered, sinking back onto the chair. 

He squeezed his hand weakly. “I’m sorry Thrawn”, Max repeated. “I didn’t know it was that close.” Thrawn said nothing, his anger finally gone, replaced by tired resignation. 

“I would never want to cause you pain, my love. But I cannot apologise for saving a life.” Thrawn finally looked up again, his eyes asking a silent question. Max smiled, reaching hesitantly for his love’s hand. Their fingers grasped each other tightly as if to reassure themselves of each other.

“I’ve sworn to protect the citizens of this city, much as you swore an oath to save every life you can”, Max continued, offering Thrawn a tentative smile. “And I remember a certain doctor a while ago, who took a bullet for a cop without hesitation.” Thrawn actually looked a bit guilty now, his left coming up to hold onto Max with both his hands now. 

He took a deep breath, having calmed down enough to return a somewhat sheepish smile now. “I know Max”, he muttered. “It wasn’t fair. I just…” - “It’s okay”, his husband interrupted. “I understand. Let’s not talk about wrong or right. You saved me… again. That’s all that matters to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know there are several glaring mistakes for the whole medical side, the workings of an ER and structure of hospitals and personnel. But I had to make the choice of either trying to describe everything in perfect detail and correct way or trying to stay on the emotional side. Hopefully that one worked.


End file.
